Daughter of a Deathclaw
by FlossSwallower
Summary: No slaves. No raiders, no slavers. The Lone Wanderer was taking the cure, was taking the baby, and he wasn't going to give her to anyone. She didn't need to grow up tested and prodded by slavers. She didn't need to grow up surrounded by diseased slaves. She needed a babysitter.
1. Chapter 1

"Now hand over the kid."

The Lone Wanderer hesitated.

The Lone Wanderer's name was Tobias.

The infant didn't even make a noise.

You'd think, what with all the gunfire and explosions and screams of the dying, the baby would be crying. But no. She just sat there, quietly, silently, wrapped up on the back of Tobias's old, leathery duster.

Tobias was still panting. His boots were drenched in blood, and the red liquid went up in a splash formation to his knee on his left leg and to the ankle on his right. His combat helmet, too, was covered in blood. Blood even ran down his tanned face. It was violent outside. Very violent.

"Come on, hand her over."

On Tobias's right hand, covering it, was the hand of a Deathclaw. It wasn't the most comfortable peace of attire, the air inside stuffy and making his hand sweat. But it was definitely deadly. He'd picked it up off of one of the Bear Brothers.

His hand twitched.

Back in Haven, the scientist was dead. Her brains were splattered across the wall and across her lab coat, her 44. Magnum revolver on the ground by her now opened hands. Thoughts still whirled in Tobias' mind about whether or not he'd done the right thing, whether grabbing the small baby had been good or bad for the infant. He'd stood in the room for several minutes, staring at the wall, the Deathclaw hand that he now wore in his pack, his trustworthy old hunting rifle clenched tightly in his hands. She seemed safe there. But any moment, the slaves would raid the place, and all it would take would be one stray bullet to end little Marie's life. And that scientist, that mother, sure wasn't letting Tobias go without a fight.

So Tobias had once again pulled the trigger he'd pulled hundreds of times before.

"Jeez, would you hand the brat over already? Tests to be done! We gotta hurry!"

Tobias looked up from the dirty floor at Warnher.

It wasn't safe.

Tobias swung his hand from his left side to his right. Then he brought it up, almost like a back-hand slap.

After the Deathclaw hand and Warnher's throat made contact, to put it in the least vivid detail, there was quite a gagging noise, and suddenly a lot more blood on The Lone Wanderer's old Regulator duster.

Tobias stepped back as Warnher hit the dirty floor.

He wasn't a Regulator, of course. He merely wore the coat. He, Charon, and Dogmeat had been walking one day when suddenly, out of the blue, appeared three or four Regulators. Tobias hadn't even been aware he'd gained a negative reputation.

That still didn't stop him from shooting them all dead and taking one of their coats.

After a moment, Warnher stopped moving.

Tobias hesitated again, panting heavily, his wide eyes staring at Warnher's corpse.

Now what?

He'd gone completely on his own path.

He'd just abandoned the slaves by killing Warnher.

The slavers here certainly wouldn't accept him back.

"Just you and me now," Tobias muttered.

The baby cooed.

"I was talking to the gun," Tobias said, patting the old 32. on his waist that he happened to talk to quite often.

Tobias swung around, briskly walking towards the steel door. He threw it open, his boot clanging against the metal catwalk as he stepped outside. The gunfire, of course, remained nearly deafening, shots flying everywhere. One whizzed past Tobias's ear. He ducked, going into a crouch and moving faster now.

The Regulator duster he wore was slightly tweaked. In Tobias' line of work, which was basically a mercenary despite his protests against it, calling it a 'Wanderer of the Wastes,', he carried a lot of guns. On his back, vertical, the baby between them, were straps attached. They held his sniper rifle and the Infiltrator he'd grabbed off one of the opponents in The Hole. Inside were more straps, holding more guns, his hunting rifle on the inside left of the duster. His belt held quite a few frag grenades, and a fair share of Stimpaks. His 32. was on the right side of his waist, his laser pistol on the left.

Tobias moved down a ladder, dropping down onto another catwalk with another clang. Adding to the variety of noises was a loud PING as a bullet hit the ladder a few inches above his head.

Tobias almost smirked. Imagine the look on Charon's ugly face when Tobias brought home a baby.

Tobias turned, sprinting forward. He jogged quickly down a plank, across a catwalk, and through the broken window of a building.

"HEY!"

Tobias felt heat against his ear as the bullet flew past, smashing into the concrete wall.

He leapt forward, landing on one foot and slashing the raider across the chest. He did another slash across the raider's face for good measure, and ducked as another bullet went over his head.

Using his free left hand, Tobias pulled out the laser pistol and quickly blasted the guard four times. The guard let loose a scream and was vaporized, reduced to merely a glowing pile of ashes on the old floor of the building.

The baby still didn't cry.

Tobias had read somewhere that it was creepy when babies didn't cry. That, or if they didn't cry they were unhealthy. Either way, to him it was creepy.

He rushed forward to the gaping hole where there had once been a wall, the remains of it large chunks of concrete sprawled across the bloody floor.

He grimaced.

There was a catwalk below, but not directly below. It was to the left, merely a vantage point or viewing point. It didn't lead onto any of the floors and so was a few feet out in the air. He couldn't jump down onto it and he couldn't leap forward onto it.

"Hold tight," he muttered.

The baby said nothing.

"I was talking to you that time," he said.

Tobias leapt off the old floor. It was weak, centuries old, having survived the nuclear apocalypse and quite a few years of teenagers partying in their apartment room before that. It was a tough old floor, but the sudden burst caused part of it to now crumble. Luckily, Tobias was already in the air.

His duster flew up around him, only staying flat underneath the baby. It billowed around The Lone Wanderer like flapping wings, the baby cooing as she saw the leathery blackish-brown engulf the orange-red sky around her.

The old boots smacked hard into the catwalk, Tobias stumbling. He hit the railing, his body continuing, and nearly flipped over it. Despite the durability of the catwalk, it still trembled.

The Lone Wanderer pushed himself off the railing, stumbling down the catwalk and closer to the ground.

Milk.

He had to get milk, Tobias thought as he whipped out his 32, planting a bullet in a guards head.

He recalled seeing milk in that slave lady's place. He didn't remember her name. He'd been too busy sweating and feeling naked without the weight of his weapons to pay much attention to anything but the mission.

Tobias swerved around a slave busy sawing through the cranium of a guard.

It was a good thing the baby wouldn't remember any of this, he thought to himself as he flipped over some railing and onto another catwalk, then down another ladder.

Tobias let go of the ladder mid-way.

THUMP.

He was finally back on ground.

A bullet smashed into the ground to his left. He saw a slave drop mid-run, falling on her back and still sliding across the rough asphalt. A pair of slaves sent a guard tumbling over a catwalk more than a few dozen feet up.

Tobias didn't like The Pitt.

He briefly slashed another raiders leg and face, and charged into a guard football-style. He continued to sprint forward, the baby cooing again on his back as she watched the gunfire, little bursts of light everywhere like fireworks against the diseased sky, red splashes of paint flying onto the walls and into the air.

A few minutes later, Tobias was outside Midea's house. He opened the door, quickly stepping in and closing the steel door behind him.

"Hey! You're here! I told you to go talk to Wernher!" Midea exclaimed.

Tobias glanced at her for only a brief moment, briskly walking forward and grabbing all the milk bottles he could find, shoving them in his satchel.

"H-hey, what are you doing?" Midea asked.

Tobias said nothing.

"Hey, where's Wernher? Is he alright?" Midea asked.

Tobias moved over to Midea's desk. He picked up more milk bottles. He guessed that she'd started collecting these for when the baby was hers.

"Hey! Listen to me, alright?!" Midea shouted.

Tobias looked up.

He found himself looking down the barrel of a gun.

There was a moment of silence, the only noise that of the muffled gunfire and screams outside.

"Where'd you get that?" Tobias asked.

"Found it on a dead guard," Midea said, clenching the 10mm pistol tightly.

Tobias nodded.

He slapped it out of her hands.

"Hey!" she exclaimed.

Before Midea had time to run, Tobias had pulled out the 32. and placed a bullet in Midea's brain.

More silence.

The baby still didn't make a single noise.

Tobias shuddered.

He didn't know whether he'd shuddered at himself or the baby, though.

Tobias holstered the pistol again, his eyes locked on Midea's corpse.

He still couldn't decide whether he was a good person or a bad person. He supposed today he was a bad person.

Tobias hurried out.

BREAK

Marie cooed.

Wadsworth continued to float around the house, occasionally emitting a hum or a whistle.

Tobias sat on the couch, his head in his hands.

A baby.

He still hadn't gone and gotten Charon back from The Ninth Circle yet, or Dogmeat back from Vault 101.

A baby.

Tobias dropped his hands, collapsing back onto the back of the couch. His duster was sprawled over the arm.

He had milk now. He had a home. He had protection. All things that were good for raising a baby. He wagered he could wander into the wasteland every now and then and go and get some more milk, so supplies weren't a problem.

The problem was the caretaker.

Was he a good person?

He'd disarmed the bomb of Megaton. He'd taken in Dogmeat. He hunted for purified water to give to Carlos outside of Rivet City.

Then again, Tobias thought, as he looked over at his refrigerator, his fridge was full of mutilated body parts and human flesh.

He stared up at the ceiling.

He worried often that he was going insane. Probably too often for someone who was trying to take care of a baby. And it wasn't a joke, either. He literally wondered if he was going insane.

It happened to a lot of wastelanders. He liked to deny it, but in truth he knew he was just a mercenary. A gun for hire. Some day he had morals, some days he didn't. He'd slapped a slave collar on that one kid in that abandoned old house and told him Paradise Falls was a safe, warm place. He'd shot innocent people in cold blood. He'd fished in the bags of raiders and collected organs and body parts. He'd shot all of the ghouls outside Tenpenny Tower without batting an eye, then did the same to all the residents of Tenpenny Tower.

He supposed what had started it was his attempt to return.

He'd stumbled back one day. His hunting rifle strapped on his back, his Vault 101 jumpsuit dirty and muddy and bloody, sweat pouring down his pale face. He was a Vault Dweller, his skin pale from having never seen sunlight, and the sun burned. He was drenched in sweat, he stunk, but most of all he was terrified. He was terrified and alone. He'd thrown open the rickety old wooden door hard enough that it smashed against the stones of the cavern, feeling the cool inside engulf him. He'd staggered over to the giant, humongous vault door and pounded on it. Collapsed to his knees and pounded and pounded on it. He'd screamed and screamed to please be let back in, he'd felt tears flowing down his dirt-crusted cheeks, mixing with the sweat.

He'd gotten no answer.

He'd knelt there for hours, pounding and pounding on the door. He'd rushed over to the keypad and tried desperately to type in the right code. He never got the code right. And he never got a response.

So he'd sobbed.

And sobbed.

And felt something snap inside him.

That day he'd gone and shot an innocent trader caravan, looting the traders dead bodies and not even letting the pack-brahmin live. Then he'd started collecting human flesh. He'd run into a group of hunters that sold him nameless meat, and he wasn't stupid, he knew it was human meat. He'd killed them all and then took all the meat anyway, stumbling back to his home and shoving it in his fridge and planning on one day maybe eating it.

He disgusted himself.

The headaches started again.

Tobias leaned to the right and reached a shaking hand into his duster, fumbling around and finally finding a Rad-X bottle. He snatched it out, screwing it open and dropping a few pills on his tongue. He screwed the cap back on and swallowed the capsules dry.

Radiation sickness.

He was lucky he hadn't turned Ghoul already.

His Pip-Boy said he was already at deadly levels. If he didn't keep taking the Rad-X, not only would the horrible headaches continue and get worse, but he'd probably turn into a Ghoul, too.

Tobias glanced down at the baby.

"Well, you might be the answer to my problems," he said.

Marie cooed again.

Tobias stood up.

He could do it on his own. He was a scientist himself. Back in the vault, it was the job he'd been assigned on the GOAT. He was excellent with science. Science and medicine both. It was a little unusual, a merc who was also a doctor and a scientist on the side, but it was true. Sitting in the corner of his room was the small lab he'd bought from Moira that he made chems in. Every day he made a new chem and sold it to Moira, getting a steady income of money that way.

He could support the baby.

But what if he got it killed?

Tobias sat down on the stairway to the upper floor.

"Marie, looks like you've got a psychopath for a babysitter," he muttered.

Marie cooed.


	2. Chapter 2

A whiskey bottle flew through the air.

Marie followed it with her eyes from the dusty old counter.

Wind continued to flow in and out through the old café. The windows were all broken, and the door lay out in the dirt, half-submerged.

"Scotch," Tobias muttered, and another bottle went flying.

Outside, leaning against the wall of the café, combat shotgun in hand, stood Charon. He looked from left to right, making sure no raiders were coming.

Tobias paid no attention as an Enclave eyebot lazily flew through the air outside the café, tooting its patriotic tunes. Marie watched it with interest, making a small sound of delight.

Tobias briefly turned his head at the sound and saw the baby watching the eyebot.

It was cooler up north here. He didn't know why exactly, but he knew that where there had once been an orange tint to everything and the sun beating down, there was now a blue-grey tint to everything and a cooler air blowing through the shattered windows of the café.

Tobias turned back around, going back to looking through the crates. He'd assigned Dogmeat to look for food, so periodically he'd hear Dogmeat padding through the café, sniffing along the ground. Marie also found great delight in watching Dogmeat, who occasionally looked up and wagged his tail a few times before continuing to sniff the ground.

"Ah! Here we go!" Tobias said, pulling out a full milk bottle and slapping it down on the counter.

He went back to rummaging.

Tobias had decided, if he was to wander, it'd be a good idea to stay in cooler areas. The beating heat of parts of the Capital wasteland probably weren't good for Marie. He would have left her at home, but he'd remembered his tenth birthday and what had happened to his cake. He liked Wadsworth, but Wadsworth had some sharp saws on him.

"Ooh," Tobias murmured, spotting a Nuka Cola and sticking it in his satchel.

After snatching some milk, Tobias had hurried out of The Pitt as fast as he could. He'd hurried back to his house in Megaton, gave the kid some milk, and then strapped the baby back on his back and hurried to Vault 101.

"Stop searching, boy," Tobias called.

Dogmeat barked.

Tobias knew that, if asked, Dogmeat could go on searching for something forever.

Dogmeat rested on his haunches, his tail sweeping across the floor to the delight of Marie.

Tobias slapped another milk bottle down on the counter.

A dog, Marie, and Charon. Having three companions who either don't speak or hardly speak wasn't too great for the loneliness, Tobias thought as he tossed an empty bottle.

He missed the vault.

His hand paused above another empty bottle.

He missed the vault so bad.

He'd encountered Butch in Rivet City a while back. When he heard that the idiot had left the vault willingly, he'd slapped him hard. It grew into a fight, and in a few seconds Butch was lying on the floor with a combat knife in his stomach.

No one had cared.

He'd wondered if it was a delusion. He'd grown sweaty, terrified, charging out of the bar and out of Rivet City.

He wondered if he was going insane.

Feeling the splitting headaches return, Tobias stopped throwing bottles and gulped down a few Rad-X pills, then screwed the cap back on and shoved the bottle back in his duster.

Tobias got to his feet, leaning on the counter and rubbing his forehead.

He picked up Marie, strapping her back in on his back.

"Come on, boy," he muttered, gesturing towards Dogmeat.

The technology.

He didn't have the technology.

Tobias was a fine scientist, but he didn't have the technology.

He sat in front of the Lincoln Memorial, on the steps, staring at the Washington Monument.

Those slavers back at The Pitt had the technology.

Tobias almost chuckled. Speaking of slavers, he thought.

A few months back, he and Sergeant RL-3 had taken this place. They'd shot every slaver in this place and why? Because he wanted to walk up those steps and they weren't going to let him. So he and RL-3 walked up the steps, downing slaver after slaver after slaver. That was back when Tobias was just wandering around in his vault jumpsuit.

Those were better days.

He still remembered how he'd sold almost everything he had just to get enough money for the robot. He'd fallen in love with it the moment he saw it, and when he and RL-3 had started venturing off into the wasteland, he knew that, even though RL-3 was just wires, he and RL-3 would be good friends.

And they were.

A sad smile spread across Tobias' face. It was a smile of nostalgia.

He supposed that might have helped him start the body-part collecting business. A while after his attempted return to Vault 101, he'd lost RL-3 in the Capitol Building to a Behemoth. He still remembered how the entire room had a strong, strong smell of gunpowder to it, Talons and Super Mutants lying dead everywhere. It was a giant room, and Tobias was the only thing left standing in it.

He'd set down a laser pistol and a frag grenade by RL-3, and a steam gauge assembly he'd found in the corner of the room.

"In case you ever need to get back up and fix yourself and keep fighting," he remembered muttering.

He remembered his throat going tight and felt it going tight again.

All day, Tobias had simply been wandering. He'd wandered and wandered and wandered across the wasteland, occasionally looting an abandoned building for supplies. He had no idea what to do. He had no idea how to raise a baby. He knew he needed milk. He sure had gathered a lot of that so far. He'd probably need some food once the kid was old enough to eat. He guessed he didn't have to worry about it being radioactive.

Marie cooed.

Tobias looked down at the little baby resting in his arms.

She was tiny. Very young.

He knew he should hand her over to someone capable. Maybe the BoS. But no. Who knew what they'd do to her? Make her a soldier? Poke and prod her? Get her killed?

Memories flooded into Tobias' head.

Abandon her?

He coughed uncomfortably.

Marie cooed again.

Tobias looked down at Marie. He chuckled.

"You're cute, Marie," he said.

Marie made that gurgling-squeal noise babies like to make in what sounded like confirmation.

Tobias chuckled again.

"A smart-aleck," he said, looking back up at the Washington Memorial and at the BoS soldiers patrolling it.

The wind whistled through the air. Charon sat lazily between Lincoln's giant stone feet, Dogmeat napping in a corner.

"I used to be a smart-aleck," Tobias said quietly, more to himself than anyone else.

Amata.


	3. Chapter 3

(Hi, sorry about forgetting to put the BREAK when the scene changed last chapter, forgot that fanfiction cuts out hyphen lines. Thanks for reading!)

Tobias staggered.

He stumbled.

He nearly tripped.

He'd run out of Rad-X.

There, seemingly endless amounts of football fields away, was the familiar Lincoln Memorial, across an infinite stretch of shallow radioactive water.

Splash.

Splash.

The headache was horrible. His skull felt like it was splitting. His vision was heavily blurred. His legs were weak. He felt hot.

He tripped.

Something grabbed him.

Charon quickly undid the small pack, grabbing the baby and pulling him out.

Tobias fell straight into the water.

Charon knelt down by the Lone Wanderer, Dogmeat sniffing his owners unconscious body, peeling off the pack and strapping the baby onto his own back.

"Follow me, mutt," Charon growled as he picked up Tobias with a grunt.

Dogmeat barked.

He'd known for a while now that the radiation was getting to the kid. He was chugging Rad-X, his eyes would get glazed over for no reason, he'd wake up and hear him moaning and groaning in pain at night. It was starting to take a toll on his mind, too, Charon worried. He'd never heard of someone turning Ghoul slow, most transformations were fairly quick. Charon, himself, had turned Ghoul from the great bomb itself. Nowadays, you didn't see many people turning into Ghouls. Most Ghouls were from pre-war, Charon was centuries old. But it was hard to find Rad-Away. And sometimes an area full of heavily radioactive, leaking barrels was the only way through a cavern, or a pool of radioactive water the only way across a passage.

The kid was heavy. He was covered in guns and all kinds of weapons, and that satchel of his still hung off his shoulder.

Charon watched as a piece of skin peeled and fell from the kids hand. Just blown off by the wind.

He grimaced, and increased his brisk walk through the water to a fast jog.

He liked the kid. But he knew nothing about what was happening to him. And, after seeing the inside of the kid's fridge, he started to wonder if a person could turn feral before they even went fully Ghoul.

Charon jogged up the Lincoln Memorial steps, the dog following him.

That hand was starting to spook him out, too. Hand of a Deathclaw. The kid had started using it more and more, and it was a lot crueler than a shot to the head. Sometimes he'd run straight into a gunfight with just that, slashing like mad at whoever he was fighting and barely avoiding getting shot.

Sounded a lot like a Feral to Charon.

Charon dumped Tobias on one of the beds. He took the duster off the kid, throwing it on the ground. He reached in the satchel and fished out an old shirt and a bottle of purified water. He cut off a few strips of the shirt, folding them up till they were nice and thick and then running the water over them. He set the make-shift wet towel on the kid's forehead, and pulled the satchel off him and set it on the floor.

Charon was big.

Charon was ugly.

But that didn't mean he hadn't had kids before the war.

Here came the part that wasn't so kid-friendly. Rummaging in the satchel again, Charon pulled out a Jet inhaler. The kid needed something for the pain. He forced open Tobias' mouth and pressed down on the inhaler, shooting in the addictive pheromones. He emptied the inhaler and tossed it off to the side, then gave the kid some more Jet. Tobias, luckily, manufactured Chems back in Megaton and often collected them to sell.

That and cigarettes.

Jeez, were there a lot of packs and cartons in here.

What a life, Charon mused, a cigarette and Chems salesman trying to raise a kid.

BREAK

"Jet. I need Jet."

"I thought you Ghouls barely even felt Jet," the merchant said.

"For someone else," Charon growled.

He stood in Rivet City, talking to the Quick-Fix merchant whose name he didn't bother to learn. The kid was still down-under and needed more medication.

"Rad-X, too. Lots. And Rad-Away," he said.

"All sold out on that last one," the merchant said, gathering bottles of Rad-X and Jet inhalers.

Charon slapped a bag of caps down on one of the merchant's shelves as she handed him the Chems.

"You can count it yourself," he said, shoving the Chems in the satchel he'd taken from the kid and hurrying off.

BREAK

The Regulator kicked the tin can, watching its descent down the huge stairs of the Lincoln Memorial.

"You think he's dead?" another Regulator asked, peering at Tobias' limp, sweaty form.

"Looks like it to me," yet another said.

The Regulator kept peering at him.

"Look at his hand. He's got a bloody Deathclaw hand wrapped around it," she said.

"Imagine how many innocent people he's killed with that," the one who had kicked the tin can said.

"Yeah," the peering Regulator said.

A moment of silence.

"Well, let's get his finger," the third Regulator said.

"Yeah. Yeah, good idea," said the second, who was still watching Tobias.

She pulled out a large cleaver, dark brown stains covering the blade. She walked over to Tobias, grabbing his wrist and setting his index finger down against the small table by the bedrest.

"He's half Ghoul," she muttered.

Tobias brought the Deathclaw hand swinging up.

To put it in the least vivid detail, the Regulator soon didn't have much of a face.

Wasting no time, Tobias snatched the hunting rifle from the Regulator's hands and downed the Regulator to his right.

A shot landed by his ear.

He turned the rifle to the last Regulator, pulling back the bolt and firing it again.

The shot hit the Regulator in the arm. The Regulator shouted in pain loudly, dropping the rifle and staggering back, clenching the wound to try and stop the flow of blood.

She looked back up at Tobias, who was still lying in bed.

A look that had no mercy in it met her back.

He shot her in the knee.

The Regulator dropped, releasing another exclamation of pain.

Tobias got up from bed slowly.

His cheeks were now thinner. The undershirt he wore hung off him. A beard had begun to grow on his face. The Jet was beginning to show on him and so was the radiation sickness. He was already missing a finger on one hand, not because it was shot off or cut off, it merely fell off.

He needed Rad-X or else he was going to turn Ghoul.

Tobias turned the rifle in his hands.

The Regulator looked up, pleading eyes looking into Tobias' merciless ones.

"Please," she said.

Tobias walked over to her, silently, slowly.

There was a glint in his eyes.

A terrifying glint.

"Please," she repeated, the sound of desperation even more evident in her voice this time.

Tobias raised the rifle.

And brought it swinging down.

BREAK

"Come on, mutt," Charon said.

Dogmeat barked.

Marie giggled.

Charon stopped in front of the radioactive pool out in front of the memorial. He looked up.

Oh no.

There, just barely, he could make out the outline of someone kneeling, bringing the butt of a rifle up and down and up down onto a figure below them.

Charon sprinted.

He unholstered his shotgun as he went.

The sniper rifle was back on the kid's duster. Stupid. He should have brought it with him.

Charon jumped out of the shallow pool, hurrying up the steps.

Mid-way, he saw, luckily, it was the kid with the rifle.

He slowed down.

Tobias kept bringing the rifle up and down. There was a scary look on his face, one of rage.

Charon walked up.

Slowly.

Slower.

Slower.

He eventually reached the top.

The sight of the Regulator's face was, to put it in the least vivid details, not pretty. And quite soft now. And very red.

But the placement was precise.

The kid was careful to not kill the Regulator. The Regulator was still alive, screaming and grunting with each blow.

Charon felt sick.

One of the blows hit the Regulator's throat.

Then another.

Bulging eyes.

Hands clawing at Tobias' own throat in a desperate attempt.

Charon felt very sick.

He almost turned away, but he didn't want the little one to see. He walked backwards to the beds, unstrapped the baby, and set her down on a bed. He patted her gently, set down the satchel, and turned back towards Tobias.

There was no skin on the back of the kid's throat and upper back, which were visible through the old, worn, torn undershirt.

He was turning Ghoul.

Not just that, but turning Feral.

So this is what happened when the kid didn't get his Rad-X on time.

Of course, Charon guiltily reflected, the Jet might have helped. But the kid wouldn't have survived without the Jet.

He tapped the kids shoulder.

Tobias' head swung around. His eyes glinted, his face splattered with blood. There was a hungry look on his face, a wild look on his face.

Charon tried to ignore the fact that a low, strangled moan was still coming from the Regulator, and she was still twitching.

"What?" Tobias spat.

"I got you more Rad-X," Charon said, aiming a thumb over his shoulder at the satchel.

Tobias stared at the satchel for a moment, muttered a thanks, and hurried off to it.

Charon turned.

The kid was rummaging through the satchel, his back turned.

Charon raised the shotgun, wrapping his finger around the trigger.

Then stopped.

The kid was staring at the little one.

The look in his face was gone.

He stared at the kid, then looked down at his hands. They were drenched in blood, the Deathclaw hand discarded by the twitching Regulator.

"What a babysitter you've got, huh?" Charon could just barely hear Tobias mutter.

Guilt.

He heard guilt.

Tobias looked back at the Regulator. There was guilt in his eyes. But not just guilt.

Disgust.

And terror.

Tobias slid off his feet from his crouched position to a flat sit. He buried his head in his bloody hands.

Charon set the shotgun down.

He wasn't going to kill the kid today.

He could still save him.

Wearily, Tobias fished in the satchel and pulled out some Rad-X. He downed quite a few more of the pills than necessary, then inhaled some Jet, then some more.

There was silence.

Dogmeat wagged his tail.

Marie cooed.

"Rad-X. Next time we can't forget," Tobias said.

"Yeah," Charon agreed.


	4. Chapter 4

(By the way, this story isn't a day-to-day retelling, for example Tobias was in his sickness-induced coma for at least a week. So weeks might pass between events, but if months or years pass between events I'll mention it. Keep reading!)

Tobias gulped down the pills.

The beard was getting lengthier. It showed gray in it not because of Tobias' age, which was fairly young, but because of stress and the medication. He took Jet on a more than daily basis now, if he didn't the pain would become horrible. Along with the Jet, he emptied bottle after bottle of Rad-X, and had started taking a few Mentats every now and then to help him regain focus when the headaches got to him.

Tobias had warmed considerably to Charon. He had always been fairly close to Charon, and would have been deeply upset if Charon were to die, but now that Charon had taken care of him during his time of need, he felt like Charon was family.

He stared at his hand.

He sat on the rusty old gridded floor of the catwalk. Yellow light passed lazily in through the windows, Marie watching with fascination as the dust twirled in the light. Dogmeat paced around, nosing the dead bodies of the Ferals the old abandoned factory was now full of.

Not even flesh.

It was rotten. Green. Green, with streaks of white meat and brown spots and splashes all over it. It spread down to the top of his wrist. He'd noticed earlier when he'd reached to scratch his neck that the skin was gone there, too.

Tobias didn't even get to die a human.

"Imagine if Amata saw me now," he muttered.

Marie squealed.

"Again, talking to the gun," Tobias said.

The sad smile that spread over his face so often now, as he lost himself in the tunnels of nostalgia in his mind, spread over his face again.

"Come on, we've got to go!" she'd said.

"I was just having a weird dream… You were in it," he'd said, a smirk spreading across his face.

Tobias felt that tightness in his throat again.

"What a smart-aleck," he whispered, uttering the words that Amata had said so many times.

He coughed, shifting in place as he noticed Marie was staring at him.

"Just old memories, Marie. I bet you'll have tons of boys after you when you grow up," he said.

Marie cooed in agreement.

Tobias laughed.

He hadn't laughed in a while now.

Only…

He paused.

He didn't even know his own name. He knew he was young, that was the point. And yet here he was, with all these lines on his face and a grim set to his thin lips.

"I've aged twenty years in the past twenty hours," he said to his 32., "Hell, even more, look at me, I'm already rotting."

Four weeks ago he'd grabbed Marie. He still had no idea what to do. He just kept grabbing milk. Grabbing and grabbing milk wherever he could find it. He hadn't seen his home in a while, and he figured it was too dangerous now to stay at his old temporary home he'd stay at from time to time of the Lincoln Memorial.

So he just walked.

And bought Rad-X.

And stole Rad-X.

And bought Jet.

And stole Jet.

And bought milk.

And stole milk.

And killed for all three.

He reached over to Marie, picking her up and setting her on his lap. He rocked her gently in his arms. He didn't know why. He just felt like holding her all of a sudden.

"I bet I'm the best babysitter you've ever had, though, huh, Marie?" he said, looking down into the blue ocean eyes.

Marie cooed in what sounded like a disagreeing tone.

Tobias chuckled again.

"Oh! Hey! I found you something!" he said gently but excitedly, reaching into his satchel.

He pulled out a teddy bear.

Marie cooed in delight, reaching her arms out from her wrap to try to get at the fuzzy stuffed animal.

Tobias grinned, handing it to her.

The little baby instantly grabbed onto it with all the strength she could muster with such tiny arms.

Tobias felt happiness in his heart. He felt warm in his chest whenever he saw Marie's little blue eyes light up with delight, whenever he saw her tiny little arms waving.

"Whaddaya think we should name it?" he asked.

Marie, of course, simply cooed.

Tobias, of course, named the two thoughts that would instantly pop into mind for him.

"How about 32?" he asked.

Marie cooed negatively.

"Duster?" he asked.

Marie squealed approvingly.

He smiled.

"Alright. Duster and Marie," he said, "What adventures you'll have."

BREAK

ONE YEAR LATER

"Come on! Come on, you can do it!"

Marie waddled forward, her eyes locked with Tobias' proud ones.

Compared to all of the climactic battles, giant gunfights, battles with Super Mutant hordes and Behemoths and knife-fights with Deathclaws, this was, for some reason, the most edge-of-the-seat moment Tobias had ever experienced.

Marie tripped.

Well, that was a bit anticlimactic.

Luckily, she landed on all fours. Tobias hurried over, helping her back up and reassuring her, then moving back to where he was.

She continued to waddle forth, each step wide and heavy, her arms stretched out towards her goal of the leathery old duster. She really wanted to poke Tobias' thin nose, she had no idea why he seemed so excited.

"Come on!" Tobias exclaimed quietly.

Charon watched from the corner of the room with caring in his centuries-old, beady eyes.

Caring and nostalgia.

Nostalgia for a little baby boy named Tom.

He felt a pang in his cruel, unfeeling heart.

Meanwhile, Dogmeat stood by the door of the abandoned old house, his hands resting on his front paws as he watched the small human.

Tobias stretched his arms out a little.

"Come ooon!" he repeated.

By now, Tobias' beard was also fully grey. Marie also wanted to see if it was a door, because it looked an awful lot like the color she saw on a lot of doors.

She stumbled into Tobias' hands.

"Yeaah!" he cheered in a low voice to not scare Marie.

A smile appeared for a moment on Charon's rotted face, and Dogmeat closed his eyes and went to sleep in content that the exciting moment was over.

"Good job!" Tobias said.

Marie spread her tiny arms as far as he could around the chest of Tobias' crouched form. The moment knew it was important, and seared itself into the baby's brain. The feeling of the old, smooth yet rough, leathery duster against her bare arms and her little cloth start would stay with her the rest of her life. The feeling of his beard tickling her head.

And Tobias would definitely never forget. He'd never been so happy in his entire life, and he didn't even know why.

He closed his eyes and squeezed Marie a little tighter.

He tried to ignore the fact that he no longer had any skin on his entire forearm.


	5. Chapter 5

TWO YEARS LATER

Tobias continued down the hallway.

Marie could walk now. She no longer rode on Tobias' back, trailing behind him, her small blue eyes wandering. She was smart, Tobias had learned to his great relief. She obeyed to his strict commands to never, ever stray. Not even once. To stay right behind her babysitter and shout if she saw anything. She could talk now, too. Talking and walking.

Tobias didn't have the pleasure, however, of saying the years had flown by.

In Marie's right hand, swinging at her side, was Duster.

Tobias had taken to wearing gloves. He didn't want Marie to see his hands. The rotting had spread to both of them, not just one, and his entire left arm was bare of skin. He was taking more Rad-X than ever, and sometimes the amount made him woozy. The occasional Mentat had now grown into a necessity to keep his eyes alert, his brain going.

He was getting more and more dependent on things that were more and more hard to find.

Sure, he manufactured chems back in Megaton. But even one inhalers worth of Jet took an entire day to be ready.

"You okay back there, Marie?" Tobias asked in a whisper.

"Yeah," Marie said.

"How's Duster?" Tobias asked.

"He's okay, I think. He's hungry, though," Marie said.

"Oh. We'll get you some food pretty soon," Tobias said.

"I'm not hungry, Duster is!" Marie said.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. You two look kind of alike," Tobias said.

"Hey!" Marie said.

"Just kidding," Tobias said.

Tobias kept walking. He held the hunting rifle in his gloved hands, looking in open doorways and pushing the doors open to the ones that weren't.

Empty.

Empty.

Empty.

Charon and Dogmeat were elsewhere. They were both told to search for chems, and so Dogmeat led Charon down hall after hall, his nose to the ground. Even Dogmeat was starting to get gray fur showing on him, and liked to sleep more often. Of course, Tobias did too, and he was only…

He frowned.

He guessed he was probably about forty?

In reality, of course, he was much younger than this.

But he felt like he was over his seventies.

Tobias rounded a corner.

And there it was.

A Feral.

And Tobias froze.

He'd killed dozens, hundreds even, of Ferals before. But he hadn't seen one since he'd first grabbed Marie.

It looked up, hunched over, its glazed over eyes settling on Tobias. It tilted its head.

Tobias was afraid.

Not because of the danger of the rabid beast hurting him.

Because he saw himself.

He saw what he was going to turn into if he wasn't careful, if he wasn't extremely careful, if he didn't find the largest stash of Rad-Away he could ever find.

He was in Washington D.C. On his way to Rivet City. To a doctor. But who knew if a doctor could even save Tobias.

The Feral had no skin. Just rotting meat, rotting, diseased meat.

Just like lots of Tobias.

The Feral charged.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Tobias hastily raised the rifle and fired twice.

The Feral's legs went out underneath him, the Feral slipping and skidding on his back till the Feral stopped.

"NOOOOOO!" Marie screamed.

Tobias jumped. He turned, and saw tears streaming from Marie's eyes, her little hands over her mouth. She'd even dropped Duster. She never dropped Duster.

Tobias felt a horrible pain in his chest.

Quickly, he dropped to his knees.

"Honey! Honey, what's wrong? What's wrong, why are you crying?" Tobias asked gently, holding her by the shoulders.

Marie said nothing, her entire face in her palms, sobbing uncontrollably.

Tobias grabbed Duster, lightly pressing it against Marie's chest.

"Hey, look. Look, honey. Duster. Duster!" Tobias asked quietly.

Marie's eyes peeked over her hands to look at Tobias.

She gasped.

She hugged him around the neck.

Tobias was deeply confused.

"Honey, come on, what is it, honey?" Tobias asked.

"He looked like you!" Marie said, sobbing into his shoulder.

Tobias felt cold.

He reached a hand up to his face, brushing his cheek gently.

Soft.

Meat.

Tobias went limp for a moment, stunned.

Slowly, he reached his hands around Marie's small body, and squeezed her gently.

"Don't worry about it," he said quietly.

Tobias heard fast footsteps, and Charon and Dogmeat ran around the corner. They stopped when they saw Marie and Tobias.

Tobias glared at Charon, who merely patted Dogmeat and walked back around the corner, Dogmeat following after a moment of hesitation, troubled by the sadness in the child's voice.

BREAK

"Charon, Marie had her heart broken today when I shot a Feral because it looked like me. Hell, Charon, my face is rotting off! Why didn't you bloody tell me?!" Tobias shouted.

Charon said nothing, merely staring at the concrete floor as he sat between Lincoln's stone feet. Now that they were wandering back down southeast, they'd arrived here again.

"Charon? Charon, don't just stand there like a moody schoolgirl! Answer me! Do you even understand what I'm saying, Marie cried her little eyes out because she thought I'd just died!" Tobias yelled.

Charon raised the shotgun.

Tobias' eyes went wide.

"You're right," he growled.

Now Tobias said nothing, merely staring at the shotgun pointing up at his stomach.

"Your face is rotting off. The kid can't tell the difference between you and a Ghoul, if I asked her she probably couldn't tell me how you and I looked different," Charon said.

"Charon," Tobias said quietly.

"You're going to turn into a Feral," Charon said angrily.

"Charon," Tobias repeated.

"One day you're gonna run out of those pills. Or the radiation will get too strong. And you'll stagger over to her, and she'll be standing there on her tiny little legs, and you'll chew her face off," Charon said.

Now Tobias felt rage.

"I should have put a bullet in you when I had the chance. Now I have the chance again," Charon said.

Tobias glared at Charon.

Charon stared back for a moment, then shoved himself up onto his feet, stomping off. Tobias turned and watched Charon go down the Lincoln Memorial steps for a breath of fresh air.

Thoughts swirled in Tobias' head.

Rage swirled in Tobias' eyes.

He hurried over to his discarded duster, pulling off the sniper rifle. He jogged outside, checking at first to make sure Charon was facing the other way, and hurried over to where Marie was sitting, grabbing her hand and walking with her back inside. He whistled to Dogmeat, who jumped up and followed him, and ducked through the large hole in the wall to the outside of the back. He walked a bit more to the left, then stopped.

"Stay here, alright, Marie? I'll be back in a little bit. Stay right here," he said to her.

Marie nodded.

Tobias made the motion to Dogmeat to stay and guard, Dogmeat barking an agreement, and nodded himself to himself. He hurried back inside and then out to the top of the steps.

He cocked the rifle.

He raised it, looking through the scope.

Charon stood out in front of the giant pool that stood in front of the Lincoln Memorial. He faced the Washington Monument, away from where Tobias stood, but in reality he looked at nothing, his mind clogged with thoughts, his hands in his pocket and his shotgun hesitated.

Tobias brought his finger to the trigger.

It stopped.

Just by itself.

He flexed it, then tried again.

Nothing.

Tobias finally forced himself to bring his finger to the trigger.

The small, white cross in the scope was settled on Charon's head.

It felt like his finger was the tight one, not the trigger.

At least he wouldn't shoot Charon in the back.

"HEY!" he shouted loudly.

Charon turned.

Tobias pulled the trigger.

A fountain of red exploded from Charon's head.

Charon collapsed back, landing in the water.

The thick, tough, dead skin kept Charon alive for a few seconds.

Just enough to look up and see a little boy in shorts, his hands swinging by his sides, his brown hair ruffled and uncombed, his green eyes bright and sparkling.

It gave Charon just enough time to smile.

Tobias felt cold again.

Tobias didn't move for a moment.

He jogged down the steps.

Marie didn't deserve crying twice in one day. She didn't have to see this.

Tobias quickly dragged the dead Ghoul away, far to the right of the pool.

Marie, Dogmeat, and Tobias went around the left of the pool that day.


	6. Chapter 6

(Hello, again! Sorry about the humongous absence, you've probably already lost interest in this story, but I was proud of it and thought it was a shame to abandon it like I did. This is the next to final chapter, there's one more after this and then it's done. If you're reading this, thanks for sticking through the wait!)

"You're too far."

Dim, fluorescent lights shone down. They shone down on an old, faded duster and meat that looked like spoiled steak. The spoiled steak lay above its owner's eye where his left eyebrow should have been. There was more spoiled steak hidden under a series of bandages wrapped across his left cheek. More underneath his gloves. More underneath his clothes.

Tobias tilted his head.

He hated doing that. He hated doing anything that reminded him of a Ghoul.

"What do you mean by that?"

It had been two weeks since Tobias had jogged up to the Memorial steps and put a slug through the back of Charon's skull. He stood in a room of steel, the sound of creaking and groaning of bolts and railing coming through the ship. Outside the room, outside its thick locked door, stood Marie and Dogmeat. Miles away, Charon lay dead in the dirt. Tobias didn't have time for guilt at the moment.

The female doctor hesitated, seeing the glint in the diseased man's eyes, seeing his furrowed brow and the scowl on his ruined face.

"You're too far gone. The radiation in you should have turned you Ghoul by now, but thanks to the fact that you've been chugging so much Rad-X, you've been able to avoid it while your disease still progressed. You're at the point where you're almost Feral and if you were to stop taking Rad-X, you would turn Feral. If you took Rad-Away, unimaginable amounts of Rad-Away, you'd still die immediately of Stage 4 cancer. It's immediate death or insanity," the doctor said quietly.

Tobias stared at her. His eyes were glazed, as they always were nowadays.

He laughed.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" he said.

"You know what I'm talking about," the doctor said, bringing her gaze up to his sick eyes.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, I don't, because you don't understand _me_," Tobias said, sticking his gloved thumb at himself, "I've got a little girl out there. She has no parents, she has no _family_, alright, I can't just damn _die_ after all I've gone through."

"I'm sorry," the doctor said.

"No!" Tobias yelled, leaping to his feet from the chair he was sitting in.

The doctor startled, stepping back.

"Sir, you need to calm down or else I'll yell for security," she said.

Tobias grabbed her by the shoulders, his iron grip digging into her. His Deathclaw glove lay in the corner on a counter.

"NO," he shouted, "You can't just tell me I'm going to die after everything! You can't just- Y- You- No! No!"

"SECURITY."

"NO, I CAN'T JUST DIE," Tobias said, his eyes starting to well up with tears, "NO! I CAN'T JUST LEAVE HER ALONE, YOU WITCH!" he screamed.

Rivet City security guards threw open the door. There were two of them, their eyes landing immediately on Tobias. They jogged over to him.

"NO! NO!" Tobias screamed, tears rolling down the skin he still had.

The security guards grabbed him, trying to rip him away from the doctor, who struggled against his grip.

"NO!"

Tobias finally let go, kicking and screaming and punching at the security guards. One of them finally got him into a tight bear hug, Tobias' back to the guard's front. The guard leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

"Shut up. There's a little girl outside who I imagine is yours. Do you want her to see you like this?" he harshly whispered.

Tobias' shouts faltered. He quieted, his eyes slowly falling from the doctor to the steel floor.

"Better," the security guard said.

He let him go.

Tobias left.

BREAK

"Where are we going?"  
>The soft voice of Maria came from behind Tobias.<p>

Tobias turned his face and gave her a weak smile.

"Somewhere safe. Somewhere with lots of food and warm beds and lights. Air conditioning for when it gets hot," he said.

"What does 'conditioning' mean?" Maria said back.

Tobias chuckled. She was smart for her age.

"It means you won't get so hot when it's warm outside. Won't sweat as much," he explained.

"Oh," Maria said.

Duster swung at her side, the teddy bear already showing its age. His fur was stiff and caked with dirt and dust, and his black eyes didn't gleam as much anymore. Maria still loved the thing, though. Dogmeat padded along beside Maria.

Tobias nodded at Maria, gave her another weak smile, then turned back to look ahead. The trio was slowly walking through the dirt. They were headed up north west, already across the river from D.C. He'd made the decision after a day of mindless wandering through D.C, picking up any Rad-X or milk he could find. It was hard to find both.

He was heading back home.

Tobias closed his eyes, his legs stumbling forward for him.

"Grognak the Barbarian," he muttered.

"Huh?" Maria asked.

Tobias' eyes creaked open.

"A brave warrior. Fighting the evil hordes with sword and shield, battling the creatures from the fires of the brimstone for good and humanity!" Tobias dramatically recalled, quoting the line at the beginning of the ancient comic book he'd been given so many years ago.

"What's brimstone?" Maria asked.

"What evil creatures come from. Also something that flames," Tobias explained.

"Oh," Maria said again.

His mind wandering through memories of Vault 101, it stopped again at the night he'd tried to come back in.

Tears.

Dirt.

Abandonment.

Abandoned by his father, abandoned by the vault.

Abandoned by Amata.

Marie wasn't going to be abandoned. If the vault abandoned her, so help him God, he would come up through the ground and kill everyone in there.

Tobias was going back home.

That weak smile came back to his face.

He might even get to see Amata again.

"Don't grow up like me, Marie," Tobias said.

"Why not?" she asked, in that high, innocent voice of hers.

"No one likes a smart-aleck," Tobias said slowly, the quote seeping out from memory lane.

BREAK

There it stood.

Set in there amongst the large, craggy rocks was the weak wooden door that Tobias had embarked from so many years ago.

"Hey, Marie?" Tobias said.

"Uh huh?" Marie asked.

"Could you go wait over there for a few seconds? Just hang out for a while? I need to talk to Dogmeat," Tobias said.

"Talk to Dogmeat?" Marie asked, "That's silly, he doesn't speak."

"Yeah," Tobias said, "I'm pretty silly. But maybe just wait over there for a while until I call you back, okay?"

"Okaaay," Marie said, and turned.

She walked over to a more distant rock, swinging her hands by her side, Duster swinging with her.

Tobias watched her go.

"Come on, boy," he said.

The two walked a bit further, next to the old wooden door. Tobias knelt down with a grunt to look at the dog. Dogmeat's fur was turning more and more grey as time went on, and the old dog was sleeping more often. Tobias looked Dogmeat in his intelligent, black eyes.

"I know you can understand me, Dogmeat, so listen to me," he said quietly.

Dogmeat said nothing, but looked back at him, panting.

"Don't you die," Tobias said, "Because I'm going to be leaving. Marie doesn't need any more heartbreak, but me abandoning her-" his voice cracked at the word, '- is going to leave her heartbroken. The last thing she needs is her best friend gone. I see that grey in your fur, boy, and I know you like to sleep, but damn it, don't you die. Don't you ever make that girl cry, and don't you ever leave her alone. I know you can hear me, Dogmeat, and I know you can understand me."

The tears were welling up in his eyes again. One came loose, parting from the rest and sliding down his rough cheek and into his bandages.

"So don't you die," Tobias said, his voice cracking again and turning into crying.

The old, diseased wanderer hugged the dog around his neck, burying his face in the grey fur. Dogmeat nuzzled his neck.  
>Tobias finally patted Dogmeat softly on the back and let go, standing up and wiping his eyes.<p>

"You just remember that. Good dog," he muttered.

Tobias glanced back at Maria. He wiped his eyes a few more times and sniffed until he was satisfied his appearance wouldn't worry her. He pulled out his .32 and walked over to the side, sliding out the cartridge. He turned the gun over and emptied out the bullets into his hand, then emptied them into the pocket of his duster. He sniffed again, then snapped the empty cartridge back into the gun and stuck the pistol back in its holster.

Tobias turned and called, "Alright, Maria, you can come back now!"

Maria happily turned, skipping over to her baby sitter.

Tobias smiled at her.

"Time to get you a warm bed, right, Maria?" he said.

"Right!" she returned.

Tobias sadly chuckled.

"Come on, Maria. Come on, Dogmeat."

Tobias opened the old, crickety wooden door. He stepped through, the others following him into the cold cavern.

It was time to go home.


	7. Chapter 7

Password correct.

A huge noise began to come from inside the vault.

Tobias had succeeded.

After three nights, he had succeeded.

After years out in the blazing heat of the Capital Wasteland, Tobias had spent three nights freezing cold in a cold piece of cavern. The only light was impossibly bright, coming in through the cracks between the sticks of the old wooden door, but only casting a small shadow. No heat came into the room, cold filling the clearing of stone and rock.

For three days, Tobias had been stabbing away at number after number.

Non-stop.

For three days, Tobias had not slept. He had not rested. He had only stopped to give Maria and Dogmeat food.

Finally, after three days of cold and combination, of tedium and tiredness, the keypad had accepted the password.

Tobias' eyes burned. He barely had energy to stand up. He hadn't taken Rad-X. Marie didn't need her last memories of him to be him chugging pills and inhaling Jet. He felt horrible.

Tobias put pressure on his foot.

He put pressure on the other foot.

He grabbed the keypad up on the stand, pulling at it and straining to get to his feet.

"Tobias?" Maria ventured.

The sweet, two-year old voice seemed extremely out of place. The only other sounds were the loud clangs and clinks and sound of steam from the door, an alarm blaring to announce its opening, and Dogmeat's muffled panting.

Tobias finally got to his feet with a grunt.

The humongous door, shaped like a giant iron gear, started to show light coming from the inside of the vault.

"Maria, warm beds await you," Tobias muttered.

The giant gear door cranked further up. Further up. That familiar floor was there, a bit lower than the actual floor of the vault. The stairs. The railing. Tobias squinted as the fluorescent lights hit him, shielding his eyes.

"Cover your eyes," Tobias said.

Marie obeyed, placing one soft hand over each eye. Duster knocked against her cheek.

Dark silhouettes.

Lots of them.

The giant door went further up.

Further up.

It was gone.

There was a clanking noise as it stopped.

Tobias blinked a few times. The silhouettes soon became people.

Some were people Tobias recognized.

Some weren't.

Most of them were security guards aiming guns at Tobias.

Most of them looked afraid.

Some of them were frozen with utter surprise at the sight of the return of James' son.

But one of them was a far more familiar face. A far prettier face. A sad, weak smile spread across Tobias' face again.

"Hi, Amata. I came back," he said.

Amata stared at him. The look on her face was one of sadness, surprise, pity, and perhaps sympathy. Care, even.

Tobias' eyes slowly lowered down to the guard directly in front of him. Underneath the helmet, Tobias could see an old red and white beard and Caucasian skin. Just because of that red beard, more memories flooded into Tobias' brain.

"Hey, Talmner," he said, "You were a guard back when I was just a kid. Still at it, huh?"

Talmner was silent for a moment.

"Head guard, now," he said quietly.

Tobias nodded.

"Come on, Maria. Come on, Dogmeat," Tobias called, gesturing towards the inside of the vault.

Maria walked forward, Dogmeat padding forward with her. Maria looked up with fear in her eyes, clenching Duster tight in her hands. Dogmeat looked at the guards with caution, ready to attack.

Talmner lowered his gun.

"Put you guns down, boys," he said.

The other security guards hesitated, looking at each other.

"Put them down," Talmner said, more strictly.

The other security guards did so.

Tobias looked back at Amata.

"You know what's funny, Amata?" he said, "I was just dreaming about you."

"Don't be a smart-aleck," she said quietly, memories filling her mind as well.

She started to cry.

Tobias stared at her for another moment as she buried her head in her hands, then nodded to himself and looked back at Talmner.

"You know, this little lady here is pretty tired and hungry. I think she deserves a nice, warm bed and a hot meal. Don't you think so, Maria?" Tobias asked, looking down at the girl he'd stolen two years back.

She nodded up at him.

"Yeah. Me too. How about it, Talmner? Could one of your boys here show her to the cafeteria?" Tobias asked, looking back up at the older security guard.

"Of course," Talmner said, "Come on, Wilkins, show the girl to the café."

Wilkins nodded, and looked over at Maria.

"Come on, ma'am," he said kindly.

Maria looked up at Tobias and tugged on his hand. He looked back down at her, and saw a look in her eyes of question and fear.

"Don't worry, Maria, I'm right behind you. You just follow that nice man and get yourself a hot lunch, I'll come and join you soon," he said.

She nodded, and reluctantly let go of Tobias' hand. She walked over up the steps and followed Wilkins out. Dogmeat looked at Tobias.

"Go after her, go on," he said.

Dogmeat hesitated, then barked one last time and padded off after Maria.

A second later, after the door closed behind them, Tobias looked back at Talmner.

Silence passed.

"Could I step in?" he asked.

"Of course," Talmner muttered.

Tobias stepped over the threshold, onto the steel floor of the past. He looked around, soaking it all in, then looked back at Talmner.

More silence passed.

"You know," Tobias finally said, "I always liked Grognak the Barbarian."

Amata sobbed just a little bit louder.

"And when I was a kid, I always wanted to grow up to be just like him. Sword and loincloth and all, big muscles, manly and all. Great big greatsword, wouldn't even need a shield to protect myself, just fighting off the hordes of evil with sword but not shield, battling the creatures from the fires of the brimstones for good and humanity!" Tobias said, quoting but altering slightly the line from the comic, "But it's a little hard to get a hold of a sword, you know. A lot easier to be a cowboy these days, and hey, a cowboy is almost as good as a warrior, right? Revolver instead of a sword, but still, a cowboy is no joke. I didn't mind growing up to be a cowboy. Cowboys aren't too bad."

Talmner said nothing, standing and listening.

"So, going out like a cowboy isn't that bad either. I wouldn't mind going out like a cowboy. Wouldn't mind it at all, I'd be the only cowboy who played with science labs all his childhood. Chased around a girl," Tobias said, and glanced at Amata again, then back at Talmner, "Do you like cowboys?"

Talmner still said nothing.

"You look like you'd make a good cowboy. You were always cool, I always thought so when I was a kid, wanted to grow up to have a beard like yours. Thought it was really manly. My beard's all grey, though, and I'm younger than you. Yeah. Yeah, you'd make a good cowboy, Talmner. Come on, Talmner. Let's be cowboys. Let's have a real shootout, one on one. How about it?" Tobias asked.

The other guards started to stir. Talmner quickly put a hand up to quiet them, and it worked. The guards were instantly silenced. Talmner continued to stare at Tobias.

"Come on, Talmner. Humor me," Tobias said.

Talmner was silent for a moment.

"All right," he said.

Tobias smiled at him.

"Thanks," he said.

Tobias walked over to the red-haired security guard, who was taking off his helmet and handing it to one of the other guards. Tobias walked closer, and closer. He finally leaned forward to whisper into Talmner's ear.

"Give the .32 and the bullets to the girl when she's older, the other guns, too. The duster, as well. The dog is hers," he whispered, then stepped back.

Talmner nodded.

"Thanks," Tobias said.

The baby sitter turned, walking about ten feet the other way. He turned to face the old, grizzled security guard. The guard handed his shotgun to one of the other security guards and set his hand above his pistol. Tobias smiled and threw back the side of his duster covering the holster containing the .32. He hovered his hand over the revolver.

"Come on, then. You do the count-down," Tobias said.

A gleam of pity and guilt flashed across the eyes in the stone-cold face of Talmner that showed no emotion.

"NO!" Amata screamed.

One of the security guards grabbed her. She tried to resist.

Tobias looked back up at her.

"I'll dream of you, Amata," he said.

He looked back at Talmner as the wanderer's old friend screamed and bawled.

"Come on. Let's be cowboys," he said.

Talmner nodded.

"Three. Two. One."

Tobias whipped out his .32.

Talmner whipped out his Colt.

The Colt spoke three times against the mute .32, its ability to speak left in the pocket of the duster.

"NOOO!"

Tobias staggered back. His steps were slow and heavy. Down the hallway, the small figure of Maria cried out and turned at the sound. The security guard named Wilkins picked up her small hand and squeezed it.

Tobias fell.

EPILOGUE

14 YEARS LATER

"So what do you think? She's cute, right?"

"What, that Marie chick?"

The group of three stood in the hallway vaults. They were dressed in green leather jackets, the design of a lion on their backs, like some kind of altered version of the Tunnel Snakes from the old days. One of them chewed on a toothpick. His name was Max, and his friends' names were Will and Joe.

"Yeah. She's cute, ain't she?" said Joe, with a grin on his face.

"She's cute, sure, but you've heard the stories haven't you?" asked Will.

Joe frowned.

"What stories?" he asked.

Will laughed and looked at Max.

"He ain't heard about the Daughter of a Deathclaw!" Will chuckled out.

Max shook his head, and looked up at Joe.

"You really ain't never heard about her daddy?" Max asked.

"Baby sitter," Will corrected.

"Daddy, babysitter, it changes with the stories. But yeah, most of them call him a baby sitter. Guess it sounds neat, Deathclaw as a baby sitter. Anyway, you want to hear the story?" Max asked.

"Yeah," Joe said.

"Well, see, Marie wasn't born in the vault here. Well, first of all, she was born out in this place called The Pitt, which was basically supposed to Hell, and where else would a Deathclaw spend his free time but Hell? So in this Deathclaw wanders and he kills her entire family, but when he sees her, he takes her in. Kidnaps her, takes her back here, and raises her himself. Now, then, this is a real intelligent Deathclaw, the kind you see out in California, you know, the ones you hear stories about that can speak and all? Yeah, he was one of those. Vicious, mean dude, about seven feet tall, but he raised her, you know? He even picks a gun off of one of his victims before he eats it. One day, he stumbles along here and just _rips _open the door, straight through the steel and everything! Everyone just starts blasting away at him, letting loose slugs into his red skin at this hellhound that just stumbled into the vault thinking he could eat everyone! Eventually, after he kills more than a dozen guards, this huge monster keels over dead and they realize he's got this baby with him! Vicious, mean thing, just like him, but when one of the guards get his gun to shoot him, old Talmner stops him, you know, thinks it's still a baby or whatever, crazy old geezer. So they take it in. That's why some of the stories say it was her daddy that was the Deathclaw, because she sure as Hell seems to have Deathclaw blood in her. I heard she's still got that gun the Deathclaw got her hidden away somewhere, and one time a friend of a friend of mine told me he saw her playing with a Deathclaw hand! Must have ripped it off the Deathclaw's corpse! Me, personally? I think that wasn't no Pitt she was born in, I think she was born in Hell, man, she's a crazy broad. Did you see that old hound of hers? Old as all Hell, it must be more than sixteen years old, but once a friend of a friend of mine tried to, you know, _seduce_, shall we say, her, and this old grey hound just leaps up and goes at him! And he's not the only mean one, one time my friend Jeff found out she had a teddy bear in her room and was making fun of her. He was in the hospital a week." Max explained.

The group of three were silent.

"Wow," Joe said.

"Yeah! Not so cute anymore, is she?" Will asked.

"No, dude!" Joe exclaimed.

"It's all wrong, you know."

Joe jumped, and the other two startled. Down at the end of the hallway stood a teenage girl, her eyes a blazing blue fire and her face mischievous.

"He wasn't a Deathclaw, my baby sitter. And you missed a few details, too. He hung out with a Ghoul mercenary who could probably kill twenty BoS boys in half a second, and my dog isn't that old so don't judge him. No, my baby sitter wasn't a Deathclaw. He was a cowboy," Marie said, her hands on her hips and Dogmeat at her side.

The three teenage boys stared at her.

"You did get one thing right, though," Marie said, and grinned, "I was born in Hell."


End file.
